


You Showed Me

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-09
Updated: 2004-09-09
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here he was, hoping things would be different this time, when things were never different between him and Sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Showed Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Jen, Pete/Melissa, Dot, and Meg. Thanks to girlinthetrilby and jjtaylor for the kind words and encouragement, and to mousapelli and romanticalgirl for the beta and the helpful suggestions. All errors remaining are mine. Begun sometime in December 2003.

1.

Boromir had just tried to steal the Ring from Frodo when Remus's fireplace glowed green and Sirius came flying out of it.

Remus sighed and put down the book. A late night visit from Sirius usually meant only one thing -- trouble with his love life.

"Hey, Moony."

"Tea?"

Sirius shook his head, soot dusting his shoulders before he muttered a quick cleaning charm. Remus waited expectantly, knowing Sirius would get around to telling him what had happened in his own time. Sirius dropped down onto the sofa next to Remus, curling up against him, his head on Remus's chest. Other people might have thought it was odd, but Sirius had always been this way with him. It didn't mean anything; he supposed it had something to do with Sirius's Animagus form. Remus stroked the thick, dark hair, luxuriating in the feel of it against his fingers. He told himself it was the same way he'd have petted Padfoot, but he knew he was lying.

He'd come to treasure these sporadic late night visits. Since leaving Hogwarts almost a year ago, they didn't see enough of each other. Remus was always busy looking for work, or buried in the stacks at the Ministry Library for Dumbledore, while James and Sirius studied to become Aurors and went on Order missions in their spare time, and Peter worked for the Ministry at some boring desk job he complained about whenever they got together.

He thought Sirius had fallen asleep, and his own eyes were closing drowsily, when Sirius said, "I broke it off with Paulina tonight."

"I see. Which one was she?" There were always girls around Sirius, beautiful girls and witty girls, society girls who made Remus feel gauche and stupid. There was the occasional bloke, as well, which fueled the hope Remus had been trying to quash since he was an awkward fifteen-year-old, and he'd realized he was in love with Sirius Black. He'd found other boys -- men -- since, but that love and that hope had never quite faded away.

"Tall, blonde. Longbottom's cousin from Prague."

"Ah. I remember."

"Why do they always want a commitment? Isn't having a good time enough? They all think they're in love with me, but that's bollocks." Sirius asked plaintively, rubbing his cheek against the soft cotton of Remus's shirt. Remus prayed Sirius couldn't hear his heart racing.

"It's that famous Sirius Black charm," Remus said, years of closeness wearing the sharp edges off the mockery. "Irresistible, or so you keep saying."

"You don't find it irresistible," Sirius murmured, so low Remus wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

"Are you here on my couch at--" he looked at his watch, "one in the morning, interrupting my reading at a crucial moment?"

"I suppose," Sirius replied, full lips settling into a pout.

"What more do you want?" he asked, exasperated, because he knew this was all Sirius wanted from him, was all Sirius had _ever_ wanted. He'd had to learn that lesson over and over again, and obviously it _still_ hadn't sunk in, because he here was, hoping things would be different this time, when things were never different between him and Sirius.

Sirius looked up at him, eyes dark with some unidentifiable emotion, which was a surprise, because Remus thought he'd noted and catalogued every one of Sirius's moods, and the way they were reflected in his eyes, his voice, his body.

Remus found it hard to breathe; his chest was tight and his lungs on fire. The worn chenille couch, so warm against his back earlier, was positively chilly compared with the heat of Sirius's body pressed to him.  
  
"I want," Sirius began, his voice low and urgent. Remus leaned in closer, breath caught in his throat.

The fire flared green again, disgorging James. "So sorry, Sirius. Lily and I were at her parents'. I came as soon as I could."

Again, Remus couldn't breathe, but this time it was his own stupidity stifling him. _Of course_ Sirius had gone to James first. He sat up abruptly, ignoring Sirius's grunt at being shoved away.

"I'll make some tea," Remus said. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strange, strangled. James shot him an odd look but said nothing.

He puttered around the small kitchen, doing things by hand instead of magic, to give himself some time to calm down.

He could hear them talking, Sirius repeating what he'd already told Remus, James giving rubbish advice, the way he always did, about how Sirius would know when the right girl came along. Remus wanted to shout at him, at them. What if it were a bloke? Couldn't it be the right _man_ for Sirius, or had they completely eliminated him before he even got into the game?

Of course, he knew the answer to those questions, and he cursed _himself_ for his own anger and foolish wishes. He knew better. He'd never get in the game, because he'd had the past four years to do it and it had never happened. Sirius proved time and again that they were mates and that was it, and to expect more was to court disappointment and heartache.

Absently, he pulled mugs out of the cabinet above the sink, and remembered.  
  
He had hoped, oh, had he ever. The nights he'd lain in bed, listening to Sirius and James messing about behind closed curtains -- soft, wet sounds as the bed creaked and they groaned.

The first few times he'd heard Sirius slipping out of bed, he'd held his breath and wished, but Sirius always went across the floor to James's bed. They forgot the silencing charm sometimes, and Remus would lay awake listening, tormenting himself all night by imagining Sirius had chosen him, not James.

He couldn't hate James for it, but he'd often wished James hadn't owned Sirius so completely that Remus could never capture even a small piece of his heart.

He'd thought he might have had a chance when it ended, when Lily finally came round to admitting she fancied James, but it never happened. Sirius still sneaked out of bed sometimes, but never for him. Sirius occasionally had people in, but never him.

He tightened his fingers, deciding yet again that he was over this. The mug in his hand shattered, slicing through skin and bringing James and Sirius into the kitchen, wands at the ready.

"Can't take you anywhere," Sirius said with a strained smile, his eyes a little wild at the sight of so much blood.

Remus thought Sirius would have been used to seeing blood by now, especially his, but apparently not. He took Remus's hand and waved his wand over it, and Remus could almost believe they were back at school. Sirius had learned healing spells by the score to deal with Remus's full moon injuries; McGonagall had wanted him to go for Healer training after they left Hogwarts, but Sirius had dismissed the idea. He'd said he couldn't care less about other witches or wizards, and couldn't be arsed to try. He wanted to fight Voldemort, and Moody was only too happy to have him and James both in training as Aurors.

Remus, who'd bested them both in Defense, was not allowed to become an Auror.

Just another slight he'd learned to live with.

Instead, he spent his time amongst dusty books and scrolls in the bowels of libraries and museums, researching defensive magic to be used against the Death Eaters. He'd pleaded with Dumbledore for more physical work, but so far it had not materialized. Research was the key, Dumbledore told him, and he was good at it, better than most of the other Order members; he was skilled at following vague clues and adding them up to something useful. And since he wanted most to be useful, he let himself be banished to the stacks while others fought in more visible ways.

The cuts healed cleanly, but Sirius continued to hold his hand for a long moment that only became awkward when the kettle whistled, and James shuffled to the stove. The kitchen was too small for the three of them to fit comfortably. He snatched his hand out of Sirius's warm grip, feeling his ears burn. He told himself he was imagining the flash of hurt in Sirius's eyes, seeing what he wanted to see instead of what was actually there.

"Tea's on," he said with false heartiness, his stomach twisting in embarrassment.

"Actually, I'm rather tired," Sirius said, and Remus could see the haughty mask slide down over his features, the one that he showed the world, and rarely his friends. "Ta, Prongs. Remus." He headed toward the fireplace and was gone before either of them could say anything.

James shrugged, his mouth curled in a weak yet sympathetic grin. James knew, Remus realized with a flash of bitterness. He knew, and he was offering sympathy as best he could, without ever saying anything that would embarrass Remus. For a moment, Remus wanted to hate him for it, but he knew this wasn't James's fault, either.

James tapped the broken mug with his wand and it repaired itself instantly. Setting it down on the sink, he said, "It's been a long night. I'll just be going, then."

"Ta, Prongs," Remus replied in resignation, echoing Sirius. "Give Lily a kiss for me."

James smiled that same wan smile. "I will, Moony. Good night."

Remus banished the tea things with a wave of his wand, and too wound up to sleep, spent the rest of the night reading his book.

He didn't find it comforting in the least.

***

2.

The club was dark, with flashing lights and thumping music made by men who sang in irritating falsetto, but Remus had grown to like it.

At school, he'd tended to stumble into the brief liaisons on which he'd embarked, a look here and a touch there leading to furtive blowjobs behind the equipment shed, because Hogwarts was as welcoming to poofs as it was to werewolves.

Since they'd left school, he'd had one agonizingly short-lived relationship with a cousin of Peter's, who'd taken himself off to America to be in a rock band, and then he'd discovered this place, via a discreetly worded advertisement in the back of a Muggle magazine. His shock that such places existed had been rapidly overcome by the desire to experience it as soon as possible.

His natural reserve had been easily defeated by good beer and the heady sensation of being wanted, of knowing he'd be able to walk in alone and walk out with someone to fuck, someone who was almost like him, someone who wouldn't pry into secrets, who understood about rejection. That feeling made him return again and again.

Here, other men looked at him and saw _him_ , Remus Lupin, not James Potter and Sirius Black's shadow. Not a fully trained wizard who couldn't hold down a job, or a ravening beast that deserved to be shunned.

Here, he could be himself in a way he couldn't with anyone but James and Peter and Sirius, but without the sting of knowing Sirius didn't want him as more than a friend.

He was standing at the bar, sipping a drink and surveying the crowd for likely prospects, when someone said, "Remus? Remus Lupin? Is that you?"

Remus turned to see a tall, tanned blond who'd been a year ahead of him at Hogwarts. "Adam Spencer," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Never expected to see you in a place like this."

With a small gesture, his wand in his sleeve, Remus cast a charm to allow them to speak without having to shout over the music.

Adam laughed. "Well, here I am. So how are you? You look good." Remus felt heat rise beneath his skin at the lingering once-over Adam gave him. "I take it you and Black finally split up? He's not here glowering over your shoulder at me, the way he always was at school."

Remus blinked. "Sirius? No, we're still friends. Saw him just the other night, actually. James and Lily are getting married, you know. Wedding's coming up."

"Lily? Evans? The redheaded prefect who was always yelling at him?"

Remus took a sip of beer and nodded, smiling. "That's the one. Led him a merry chase, she did, but she caught him in the end."

"Better him than me." Adam raised his glass in a toast and Remus tapped his own against it gently. "But you didn't answer the real question." Adam leaned in close even though he didn't have to, his breath tickling Remus's ear.

"What's that?"

"You and Black? Bloom finally off the rose?"

"Sirius and I were never-- We're friends, Adam." He was proud of how even his voice was, how no bitterness crept into it.

Adam looked skeptical for a moment, but then he shook his head. "Well, he's not here now, and that's the important part. I have to tell you, I fancied you at school, and you look even better without Black and Potter hanging about hexing people all the time."

Remus laughed and let Adam lead him onto the dance floor. They moved together to the beat. Remus hooked his fingers in the belt-loops of Adam's jeans to pull him close, then let his hands wander over Adam's body. Adam did the same, sliding lingering touches over Remus's chest and back, and then squeezing his arse.

The music throbbed with heavy bass, echoing the hot pulse of blood in Remus's veins and cock. Almost choked with need, he asked, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"I've a flatmate."

Remus's answering grin was predatory. "I don't."

They were careful not to attract notice in the street, walking a suitable distance apart, though Remus was aching to cover Adam's body with his own. They ducked into a tiny wizarding pub to Floo to a small sweet shop near Remus's flat, because his own Floo was blocked due to Sirius's attempts to fix it, and then walked the rest of the way, again taking care to be unremarkable.

When they reached the cover of Remus's building, though, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Remus fumbled with his keys and the locking spell as Adam rubbed against him from behind, lips searing a path down his neck, hands skating over his painfully hard cock.

He finally got the door open and they stumbled into the dark hallway, hands and lips still seeking contact. Remus slammed the door and pushed Adam against it, nipping at his jaw and unbuttoning his shirt. Adam slipped his hand down the front of Remus's jeans, and Remus moaned, thrusting against him.

Bright light flared in the room. "Moony? You all right? What's going on?"

Bugger.

Remus pulled away from Adam and turned to see Sirius, barefoot and disheveled, wand in his right hand, staring wild-eyed at them.

"I thought you said you didn't have a flatmate."

Remus glanced back at Adam. "I _don't._ "

Sirius lowered his wand and nodded in recognition. "Spencer. What are you doing here?"

"Sirius, what are _you_ doing here?" Remus replied, moving so that he could see both of them without shifting too much.

"Black." Adam began buttoning up his shirt. "I should have known."

Remus tamped down the anger and anxiety welling up inside, unable to decide which man he should assuage first. "Adam, wait--"

"Remus, what is he doing here?" Sirius said at the same time.

Adam's lip curled in scorn. "Remus invited me back for tea, Black. What the hell do you think I'm doing here?"

Sirius stalked closer, raising his wand again. "I think you'd better go."

"I think that's up to me," Remus interrupted. "And I think you should go, Sirius."

" _I_ should go?" Sirius sputtered, shocked.

"No, I'll go," Adam said. Remus put a hand on his arm, and Adam pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "You obviously have things to sort out with Black. Owl me if you ever really do it end it with him." He inclined his head briefly in Sirius's direction. "Black."

"Spencer."

And then he walked out, closing the door behind him with a click.

Remus leaned back against it and ran a hand through his hair. He was slightly tipsy and extremely horny, and Sirius stood there looking like a debauched young god, ready to be ravished by worshipful bacchantes.

He didn't deserve this. He was a good man, or he tried to be. He thought before acting, usually. He tried to be polite to strangers and kind to old ladies and children. He liked dogs, and not just because of Padfoot. He helped his friends out when they needed money or a place to crash, even though they were wealthy and he was not. It just wasn't fair that the one thing he really wanted kept rubbing his face in the fact he'd never have it.

He almost, but not quite, decided to pounce on Sirius right there, to grab hold and kiss him, just for the hell of it. He could always blame the beer. He'd let Sirius get away with worse in the past. He just hoped Sirius hadn't picked up on the implication that Adam thought they were a couple. That could turn ugly.

"I can't believe it! You and, and Adam Spencer!" Sirius said, breaking the increasingly tense silence, and Remus's resolve with it.

"What? Why not?" Remus thought he might be offended by the disdain in Sirius's voice. "Not good enough for him, am I?"

"What?" Sirius looked startled. "Don't be daft, Moony. _Too_ good for him. He's a _Hufflepuff_." Remus almost laughed at the scorn with which Sirius infused the word, but then remembered he was supposed to be angry with him.

"Even so," Remus replied, "but he was a Hufflepuff interested in being with me, and you drove him off before--"

"You can do better." Sirius dismissed Adam with a wave of one elegant hand.

"Not with you here like a bloody watchdog, driving them away before I have the chance to do more than kiss them hello. Christ." He slid down the door, suddenly tired, and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. "What _are_ you doing here, anyway? One of your slappers tell you she loves you and you've come to complain about how hard it is being Sirius bloody Black, the man every woman wants and every man wants to be?"

The silence emanating from Sirius could have frozen an inferno. Remus shivered and pressed the heels of his hands to his closed eyelids. Okay, maybe he'd gone too far, but he just couldn't keep nursing Sirius through his sexual exploits with mugs of tea and a friendly shoulder, especially not if Sirius was going to interfere in his own romantic pursuits.  
  
Remus rose slowly, the heaviness of too much to drink, unsatisfied lust and sheer exhaustion at having to deal with his feelings for Sirius all in one night weighing him down, making him feel ninety instead of nineteen.

He tried to think of something to say, but Sirius beat him to it. He summoned his shoes, which came flying out of the bedroom, and said, "I'd better go."

"Yeah."

Sirius walked out without a backward glance, and Remus heard the crack of Apparation in the hallway. He closed the door with a quiet click, and headed into the bedroom.

His chest tightened painfully when he saw his bed in disarray. He'd got used to Sirius napping wherever he fell, and he seemed to fall most often into Remus's bed. Unfortunately, he only seemed to do so when Remus was not there, and Remus had learned not to read anything into it. He kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers, still fully clothed, and fell asleep with Sirius's scent surrounding him, allowing him to pretend they actually shared the bed.

***

_Interlude: Full Moon_

Remus woke slowly, joints screaming at every small motion.

"Shh. Hold still." He opened his eyes to see Sirius hovering above him, wand generating healing warmth and magic.

"Hey." He let his eyes flutter closed again, luxuriating in the heat spreading through him, not all of which was due to the healing charms Sirius cast.

"You warm enough?" Sirius asked, gently brushing Remus's fringe off his forehead. "It was chilly last night."

Remus had a vague recollection of cold rain in his fur, of romping in the mud and then curling up to sleep with Padfoot beneath an old tree. Sirius's fingers lingered on his face, warm and strong against his skin. He knew as soon as he opened his eyes again, Sirius would snatch them away. Because Sirius always handled him gently on mornings after the full moon, touched him like a lover. But only as long as Remus couldn't respond in kind. Only when it could be passed off as healing, friendship, or whatever it was Sirius actually felt in those moments, and had never shared with him.

He took a deep breath, preparing for the loss of Sirius's touch, and opened his eyes. As expected, the fingers dropped away, and cool air rushed against his now overheated face.

"Did Prongs join us? Wormtail?"

Sirius shook his head. "Peter had to work, and James was involved in wedding shite, couldn't get away."

He nodded, head feeling heavy on his neck. At least it was Saturday. He had the whole weekend to recover. If he was lucky, Sirius would spend part of the day with him, curled up under the covers like littermates, reading or playing chess or just talking and singing Beatles songs.

Sirius had a wholly inexplicable affection for the Beatles, considering his usual preference for the most raucous Muggle music he could find. It had been his one redeeming quality in Lily's eyes when she and James had begun seeing each other. Remus had a Muggle wireless and a record player, which Sirius enjoyed fiddling with; Remus's father had packed up his albums and his 45s when he'd moved into the flat. They sat in crates next to the bed, warping from dampness and not being wedged in tightly enough.

But Sirius preferred to sing, for some reason, and Remus indulged him. He knew the false intimacy of it was dangerous; he pretended, when he snuggled down into the blankets and let Sirius's husky, off-key voice wash over him, that Sirius was singing to him, about him, for him, instead of just singing for some reason known only to himself. That only made it more painful when Sirius finally left, off to see Elaine or Alcestis or, even worse, David or Roberto.

Sirius's hands moved over his shoulders now, his chest, quick, impersonal, checking the bandages the way Madam Pomfrey used to. He found himself entranced by those large, capable hands and strong wrists, the delicate tracery of blue veins beneath supple olive skin; he could imagine the faint pulse was visible, that Sirius's heart raced for him the way his raced for Sirius.

And he knew that this couldn't go on any longer, that it should never have started in the first place.

He was going to have to end it, somehow, without alienating Sirius completely. He was lucky Sirius was still speaking to him after his outburst the night he'd pulled Adam Spencer.

He opened his mouth to tell Sirius to go, he could handle everything from here on out, but then Sirius grinned and slid beneath the covers next to him.

"Just gonna take a little nap, okay, Moony?" he mumbled, curling up with his head on Remus's unbandaged shoulder.

Remus inhaled the faint scent of rain in his dark hair, softer and more comforting even than the worn sheets on the bed. "Me, too," he replied, eyes already closing again.

He fell asleep to the sound of rain on the roof, and Sirius humming softly to himself.

***

3.

Remus laid the book down on the coffee table and stretched. That Holden Caulfield was a right prat, but he had a point. Remembering your friends just led to missing them, and in these troubled times, you never knew if the last time you saw them would actually be the last time you ever saw them.

It was raining again, and he was leaving in two days' time for Romania. Dumbledore had finally found a task for which no one else was quite so suited -- an attempt to recruit the werewolves of Eastern Europe. They ran free, unregistered, unhindered by conscience or morals, it was said, but the old man seemed to think they could be swayed to fight against Voldemort, or just stay out of the war altogether. Remus secretly thought it was a fool's errand. They would stay neutral or they would join the Death Eaters, but they would never submit to the rules and regulations the wizarding world wished to impose on them. They might even kill him for suggesting such a thing.

Remus ran a hand through his hair. It was late and he was becoming morbid. He had a lot to do before he left, and he needed to sleep.

He'd changed into a pair of old boxers and was brushing his teeth when he heard a thump in the living room.

Clutching his wand in his right hand, he moved on silent feet to the living room when he heard Sirius say, "Moony?" in a worn voice.

"Sirius, are you all right? You look like shit." Remus grabbed Sirius's arm and pulled him down onto the couch.

Sirius smiled tiredly, and it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks." He smelled of smoke and the damp dog odor that sometimes clung to him after he'd been Padfoot for a bit.

Remus realized two things after a few moments of silence. He was still holding onto Sirius's arm, and a pair of boxer shorts was not going to hide his body's reaction to Sirius's nearness.

He jumped off the couch, feeling his ears burn. "I'll make some hot cocoa."

Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed. Remus swallowed hard, wanting to bite and lick his way down the slope of Sirius's exposed throat.

"The kind with the little marshmallows in it?" Sirius asked.

He nodded, then realized Sirius's eyes were still closed. "Yeah." His voice was low, husky. Bugger.

Sirius didn't seem to notice. "That'd be nice."

Remus went to the kitchen, pulled down two mugs and muttered charms. Something was wrong and he didn't want to leave Sirius alone for too long. Though it was likely James would be by any minute, he thought bitterly. He took a deep breath, pushed his resentment down. He was still capable of being a good friend, and that's why Sirius came to him.

"Here," he said, pushing the mug into Sirius's hands. "Be careful. It's hot."

Sirius took a sip, eyes still closed, and said, "Mmm," appreciatively. "You're too good to me, Moony."

"Yes," Remus said with a straight face. "I am." That won him another strained smile.

The sipped in silence for a while, and Remus felt Sirius relax slowly, slumping against him as the tension of the night drained away. Remus promised himself that even if Sirius began blathering about one of his girlfriends, he would take it with grace and good humor. He was leaving in two days, and didn't want to part on a sour note.

Sirius dropped his head onto Remus's shoulder, the hair whispering across his bare skin, sending shivers down his spine. He inhaled sharply and fought to keep himself under control.

"Regulus is a Death Eater." Sirius kept his head down as he spoke, and it took Remus a moment to process what he'd said.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry." He wrapped an arm around Sirius's slumped shoulders and squeezed.

"I always knew he was a git, but I never thought he was that stupid."

Remus didn't know what to say. He had tried, on a few occasions, to befriend Regulus Black and had been rebuffed sharply.

"She must be so proud of him."

"We're proud of you." He desperately wanted to say, "We love you. _I_ love you," but he couldn't.

Sirius grunted and rose from the sofa. Remus shivered at the chilly air moving over him where Sirius's warmth had been.

Sirius paced the small living room, apparently lost in thought. He opened his mouth to say something, and then his gaze fell on Remus's half-packed duffel bag. "Going somewhere?"

Remus shrugged a shoulder. "Dumbledore has an errand for me. Order business." He wasn't sure he was supposed to tell anyone about it. They all knew he spent most of his time doing research, and he knew they spent most of their time training as Aurors, but he figured there were things he didn't know and hadn't been told.

Sirius stared at him, face even paler than it had been when he'd arrived. "Were you even going to tell me you were leaving?" he asked, sounding strangled.

"I--" Truth be told, he hadn't thought of it.

"You weren't, were you?" Sirius accused.

"I was going to owl, tomorrow. See if you lot wanted to have a pint or something before I left. I'm not leaving until Thursday."

"Liar."

Remus shook his head, confused at Sirius's inexplicable behavior. "I don't see what the big deal is, actually."

"You don't see what the big deal is, actually?" Sirius repeated acidly and resumed his pacing. "I can't believe you. You're going off to God knows where to do God knows what, though I'm sure it's something insanely and utterly dangerous, and you weren't even going to tell me? You were just going to _leave_?"

Remus stood. "Sirius--"

"Don't you 'Sirius' me. I know you, Remus. I can tell when you're lying." It was true. Sirius had caught onto him a long time ago. In fact, Sirius was still the only one who could tell.

"I'm sorry?" He hadn't meant it to sound like a question, but that's how it came out.

"You're sorry. You're fucking _sorry_?" Sirius pushed his hair off his forehead and came to a halt, staring at Remus with strange intensity in his eyes.

Remus couldn't bear the scrutiny and dropped his gaze, more confused than anything. He was used to Sirius's mood swings, but this was just odd.

"I don't see why you're getting shirty with me. Honestly, I didn't think you'd care." Sirius's mouth opened in shock, and Remus scrambled to cover. "I mean, of course you'd care, but--" He shook his head. He sounded too bitter. Sirius would know something was wrong. Luckily (or not), Sirius was still too busy staring at him as if he'd grown another head.

"You didn't think I'd care? Fuck you, Remus. I've done nothing but care for you for the past eight years, and you can't even bother to tell me you're leaving--"  
  
"I don't, I don't understand." The ground was shifting beneath his feet and he had nowhere safe to stand.

"That's fucking obvious."  
  
He felt horribly exposed, completely vulnerable, but he drew himself up and said, "Well, maybe you should explain it to me, if you're so bloody clever."

"Fine! I will!" Sirius shouted, flushing with anger. "I love you, all right? I've loved you since sixth year, and you obviously don't love me, because I've been trying to show you and you keep pushing me away."

Remus gasped as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Sirius had a streak of cruelty that ran deep, but Remus had never thought it would be turned at him, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

"You love me? Oh, that's rich. You showed me how much you love me every time you sneaked into James's bed so you could fuck each other, knowing I could hear you. You showed me how much you love me by coming here in the middle of the night to tell me about Paulina and Elaine and Roberto and on and on, ad infinitum."

Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus didn't give him a chance to speak.

"You showed me how much you love me when you sent Snape to the Shack on a whim--"

The blood drained from Sirius's face, but now that the dam had burst, Remus found he couldn't stop talking. That one night had changed everything, made Remus realize even his closest friends couldn't necessarily be trusted. Sirius, who quite possibly had never in his life said the words "I'm sorry" to anyone, had said them to him repeatedly, until Remus had told him to shut up and never speak of it again.

"You fucking showed me, all right, and I took it all because I love you. But I don't need your pity and I don't think this is funny, so get the fuck out. Now."

"Funny?" Sirius shouted, always needing to be louder, angrier than whoever he fought with. "You think this is supposed to be funny?"

"Isn't it? When is James going to arrive, so you can rub my face in it, how he had you when I wanted you? Did you include Peter in the joke for once? Maybe even Lily?"

Sirius held up a hand. "You're mental." He pushed fringe off his forehead again and was about to throw the Floo powder into the fireplace he when stopped and said, his voice soft with an uncertainty Remus rarely heard from him, "You love me?"

"I--" He could laugh it off now, remind Sirius of their friendship, all the promises of forever they'd made as twelve-year-olds, and everything would go back to normal. He wanted normal, he craved it almost as much as he craved Sirius's hands on his body and off-key voice humming in his ear. "We're friends," he began, focusing on the wall behind Sirius's left shoulder.

"Friends? Is that it?" Sirius stepped closer and Remus had to force himself not to retreat.

"That's all you ever wanted."

"Bollocks. You're all I ever wanted." Sirius's whisper rasped like sandpaper against Remus's ears and his heart stopped for a moment, then began to race.

"Yes, that's why you come here and tell me about all the girls you've pulled." He shook his head. "I'm not stupid, so don't treat me like I am."

Sirius winced. "I've made mistakes, but I swear, if you'll just give me a chance--"

It was all too familiar -- Sirius taking a joke too far, asking for another chance, promising it wouldn't happen again.

"I think you'd better go."

"Moony, please--" As close to pleading as Sirius ever came, and Remus had never been able to resist him.

He felt his anger dissipate, replaced by an unbearable weariness. This was how it was with them, how it always would be.

"I understand you're upset about Regulus, but you can't just go about saying you love me. It's not funny. In fact, it's rather hurtful." It hurt just to breathe with Sirius so close, saying things he'd always wanted to hear. He wondered if he were hallucinating. He reached out a hand, half expecting it to pass right through Sirius's shoulder, but it didn't, and Sirius covered it with one of his own before he could pull it back.

"It's not meant to be funny, you git," Sirius said, his voice low and urgent and not joking at all. He ran his thumb over the back of Remus's hand, sending a pleasurable shiver through him.

Two could play that game, Remus thought dazedly. With his free hand, he grabbed Sirius's shirt and pulled him close, leaning forward to kiss him. Sirius's lips were warm and soft against his, sending a shock of pleasure through his body. It took him a moment to realize Sirius was kissing him back, Sirius's hands were moving over his bare skin, each touch sparking fire along his nerves.

Remus thought Sirius was trying awfully hard to convince him, and it was unlike Sirius to push a prank on one of his friends this far. Then Sirius pressed against him, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and Remus could feel what the primitive part of his brain recognized as Sirius's cock, hard and rubbing against his own equally hard flesh, while the rational part of his brain pointed out he must be hallucinating. Because Sirius didn't care for him like that, had never --

Sirius thrust and moaned into his mouth. If it was a hallucination, it was certainly a vivid one, Remus thought in bemusement as he pulled back, breathless and still unsure that what he thought was happening was what was _actually_ happening.

"Fuck."

"Please," Sirius gasped against his jaw.

"I really think you ought to go." His voice was rough, his breathing ragged.

"Why?"

"I think--"

"God, Remus, for once in your life, don't _think_."

"Someone has to, since you never do." But he didn't move away, and Sirius's hands were still burning against the skin of his back.

"If you want me --"

He didn't let Sirius finish the sentence, kissing him with fierce hunger. He told himself it didn't matter, he didn't care if tomorrow, Sirius wanted to be friends and nothing more.

Sirius pushed him back, and, unwilling to break the kiss to see where they were going, Remus stumbled and landed on the couch, Sirius on top of him.

With eager, angry fingers, he pushed at Sirius's clothes, too many clothes, all in the way. Remus yanked the t-shirt over Sirius's head so he could feel warm, supple skin sliding against his. He gasped when Sirius pushed his boxers down over his hips; the feel of Sirius's hands on his body combined with the rough brush of denim against his already hard cock sent shockwaves of desire along his nerves.

"Wait--" he managed, working to unbuckle Sirius's belt with unsteady hands.

"Waited too long already," Sirius growled in his ear, then nipped the sensitive spot beneath it, hands stroking Remus's cock.

Remus shoved Sirius's jeans and underwear down and thrust up, looking for friction, moaning a little as their cocks rubbed together. He spat into his hand, no time or patience for anything fancy -- he still wasn't sure this wasn't some kind of joke -- and reached down to stroke them both, slick with saliva and pre-come, while Sirius's hands clutched his shoulders, stroked his hair, and Sirius's mouth covered his in another searing kiss before breaking away, gasping his name.

"Come on, Sirius," he answered, hooking his ankle around Sirius's calf to keep him from moving away, not that Sirius looked like he wanted to. "Come on," he said again, jacking them both with quick, hard strokes, demanding a response. "Come for me."

"Remus!" Sirius threw his head back, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief as he shuddered and came, wet and warm over Remus's hand and body.

The sight of Sirius above him, an expression of pure bliss on his face, sent Remus over the edge, pleasure pulsing through him in waves.

When he was able to focus again, still limp with satisfaction, he saw Sirius had kicked his jeans to the floor and was curled up against him, already sleeping like a baby.

***

Remus woke slowly from the best dream he'd had in a while. He was warm and comfortable, and he could hear the rain still hammering down outside. He really didn't want to get up. He wanted to slip back into the dream, where Sirius had kissed him and touched him and--

He wasn't in bed. And he wasn't alone.

He looked down to see a long-fingered hand splayed across his abdomen, turned his head to see Sirius's face grinning at him before leaning in close for a kiss. Even sleep-stale and morning-after awkward, the kiss sent a thrill through Remus and he groaned, shifting so he could press his naked body back against Sirius's.

The scrape of stubble against his skin, the warmth of Sirius's chest pressed against his back, and the slow, circular stroke of Sirius's fingers on his belly convinced him. It wasn't a dream.

Remus nipped at Sirius's full lower lip before breaking the kiss entirely, and Sirius smiled.

"Hello," Remus said, brain still not quite caught up to reality.

"Good morning," Sirius replied, lips against his jaw, sliding the hand on his belly down to curl around his erection. Remus lost track of time, caught up in the sensation of Sirius's hand stroking his cock, Sirius's cock rubbing against his arse. They moved together as if they'd been doing it forever, Sirius's mouth sliding over the curve of Remus's jaw, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his shoulder.

Remus came in a rush of blissful heat, Sirius's name on his lips, Sirius's lips on his throat. He felt the warm flood of Sirius's release against his arse and thighs, and couldn't even bring himself to care about the mess on the sofa, which was rented.

He was drifting off to sleep again, sated, when Sirius said, "I need to shower."

They both did, Remus thought. He reluctantly disentangled himself and stood, stretching. The couch wasn't really all that comfortable, though he was still so amazed by what had happened he could barely feel the crick in his neck.

Sirius stood and stretched as well, and Remus found himself lost in admiration of Sirius's body, lean and hard and beautiful.

"Feel free to wash my back," Sirius continued with a roguish grin before walking to the bathroom. Remus enjoyed watching him go, the smooth muscles of his thighs and arse flexing under supple skin.

Humming softly, Remus went to the kitchen to put the kettle on, willing to stretch the encounter out as long as Sirius let him.

A flare of green and a thump in the living room startled him and he stumbled back in there, searching for his wand.

"Oi, Moony, put some clothes on!" It was James, making a comically horrified face. "Lily could have been with me."

Remus ignored that, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach, ruining his euphoric mood. "What's going on?"

"Have you seen Sirius? He was supposed to have dinner with us last night and never showed up after his meeting with Moody," James said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I--" Remus knew he should just say Sirius was there, in the shower, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. "I, uh--"

James cocked his head, as if listening, and then whooped. "It's about time you got laid. Sirius and I have been worried about you, mate. You're so tense lately. I'll go and let you get back to it." Remus flushed red while James jumped back into the fireplace before Remus could stop him.

They'd been worried about him. They'd been discussing his sex life, or lack thereof. Had the whole thing been not a joke, but a pity fuck? He had to consciously unclench his fist before he snapped his wand.

He pulled his shorts on and slowly cleaned up the couch, gradually growing angrier and more horrified as he thought about it, until Sirius wandered out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his slim hips.

"Waited until the hot water ran out, but you didn't come in."

"James stopped by." He bit the words off precisely, but Sirius didn't seem notice.

"Caught you starkers and embarrassed little Moony?" Sirius snickered, but then his eyes widened. "Oh shit. I was supposed to have dinner with them last night. But Moody told me about Regulus and I forgot."

"I've cleaned your clothes," Remus said, pointing to the neatly folded pile on the coffee table.

"You're a prince," Sirius said, dressing quickly. "I mean it." He grabbed a mug off the end table where Remus had left it, took a mouthful of tea, grimaced and said, "Awful stuff, tea. Need to start making coffee in the morning." He flourished his wand like a Muggle magician. "Right then, off to see Prongs. Shall I come back later?"

"Don't -- No need," Remus answered, thinking quickly. "I've had an owl from Dumbledore and will be leaving later this afternoon instead of tomorrow."

Sirius's glance was skeptical, but all he said was, "This place is a regular King's Cross station, eh?"

Remus's nervous laugh sounded more like a choked whimper. Sirius needed to leave now, before Remus did something he'd regret. Well, something in addition to letting Sirius fuck him out of pity.

"Yeah. Shouldn't you--"

"Right. See you when you get back?"

"Sure." By then, he'd have his anger under control.

God, he hadn't felt so awkward around Sirius in years. It was horrible and wrong and he wanted to curl up and die.

He thought maybe the werewolves would take care of that for him, and suddenly his mission didn't look so bad.

Sirius leaned in to give Remus a kiss, but Remus turned his head, so Sirius's lips slid against his cheek. Sirius opened his mouth and closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Remus could see him tense.

"Well," he finally said after a moment that stretched so long Remus felt like he'd aged a century. "Be careful, Moony."

"You, too," Remus replied automatically.

Sirius flashed him a wicked grin before Disapparating, and Remus sagged down onto the sofa in relief.

***

4.

The wedding was lovely. Lily had insisted they wear Muggle tuxedos, even though her parents were the only Muggles present. James looked dashing, and Sirius, well, Sirius turned heads no matter what, but in the formal suit he looked like a Muggle film star. Remus supposed he looked all right himself; he'd received a few compliments and danced a few dances, but mostly he was content to sit and watch his friends.

Peter was a regular dynamo on the dance floor, twirling a smiling Professor McGonagall, and even he looked quite handsome in his tux.

Sirius appeared to be having a grand time and acting his usual charming self, but whenever he slouched into a chair next to Remus, his face took on a stormy, brooding look that boded ill for someone. Remus hoped it wasn't the bride and groom. Or himself. He and Sirius hadn't spoken for more than a few minutes at a time since Remus's return from Romania, and Remus half hoped Sirius would just forget about their night together, one more one-night stand in a long series of them. He wasn't sure he could take any more pity, he didn't want anything else to change, and he was certain he could live on the memory -- it was more than he'd ever expected to have of Sirius.

Sirius sat there for ten minutes, sulking like a six-year-old; he'd finished his drink and commenced chewing the ice cubes. Remus thought the sound of Sirius crunching ice between his teeth would drive him mad.

"Look," he said finally, "I understand, it's difficult, but you should be happy for James. He's wanted this forever--"

Sirius scowled at him. "What?"

"It's hard to watch the person you love be in love with someone else," Remus said. "I understand. But--"

"Have you finally run mad? Of course I'm happy for James. He's been after Lily since we were thirteen."

"But you and James used to-- I know you and he were--"

"Pfft. A lot of schoolboy wanking, that was," Sirius answered, fluttering one elegant hand. "Meaningless."

Remus blinked at this dismissal. "Then what are you brooding about?" He remembered the conversation they'd had before-- before. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Is it about Regulus?"

Sirius gave him a scornful look and unfolded himself out of his chair. "No."

He started walking, and Remus hurried to follow him. "Sirius, wait."

Sirius looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, _now_ you want to talk to me?"

"What?"

Sirius stopped and turned toward him. "You can't even be arsed to let me know you got home safely, or to answer my owls, but now you want to talk."

"Sirius, I--" He looked around at the room full of dancing, happy people. "Can we not do this here?"

"Come on." Sirius grabbed his arm and led him to a second floor guestroom. Sirius shut the door and pushed him against it, giving him a bruising kiss, his mouth a curious combination of hot and cold ( _the ice cubes,_ Remus realized hazily), and tasting of Muggle whiskey.

Remus wanted so badly to lose himself in that kiss, but he couldn't do it, couldn't turn his brain off long enough to simply let go.

He pushed Sirius away, breathing heavily. "I don't need your pity."

Sirius laughed, and Remus wondered if he were drunk.

"You're not making sense, Moony."

He conceded he might be a bit pissed himself. "What?"

"You're not being logical."

"I'm not an Arithmancy problem to be solved," he said, banging his head back against the door.

Sirius leaned in, red lips and whiskey-scented breath far too close to Remus's ear for comfort. "No, because then you'd be easy. Then you'd make sense."

"Sirius--"

"You can't have it both ways, Remus. Either you want me and think I'm pitying you, or I want James and you're pitying me."

"It can't be both?"

Sirius's low huff of laughter sent a shiver down his spine. "If we're pitying each other, it's not a problem, is it?" Long, gentle fingers brushed Remus's hair off his forehead. "We could stop talking and start snogging." Suiting action to his words, Sirius licked at Remus's lips.

Remus groaned and shoved him away. "I am not pitying you," he snapped.

Sirius returned the shove, pressing his body up against Remus and grinding his hips. "And I am not pitying you," he growled. "Goddammit, Remus, I _told_ you."

Remus closed his eyes, overwhelmed by love and lust and a little too much of Mr. Potter's expensive Russian vodka. He wanted this, had always wanted it, and wanted to believe _Sirius_ wanted it, too.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hyperaware of every inch of Sirius's body pressed up against him, of Sirius's hungry gaze, demanding a response.

"Show me," he said.

And Sirius did.


End file.
